‘I never did breaking and entering. Not my strength.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re capable of anything you set your mind to,’ she muttered. ‘It’s scary.’
‘Are you scared?’
She met his serious gaze. ‘No.’ She did up her seat belt. ‘Actually I’m hoping you’re going to make me a member of the mile high club.’
He laughed but she wasn’t kidding. He’d kissed her since the accident, but they hadn’t had sex. And she needed it—badly wanted to connect with him. There was a distance between them. She sensed his tension, as if he was keeping something back from her.
‘Are we going back to Hanmer?’
He just smiled.
She was sure of it when they got into the rental car in Christchurch and he took the road north again. Fine by her—she couldn’t think of anything nicer than making love with him in that wonderful warm water again.
But he turned off on a side road well before he should. Then took another, a gravel road this time. The building appeared out of nowhere. One of those churches that had been built a century ago and now was stuck in the middle of a field with nothing else around—no other buildings, no cars, nothing.
‘Sophy.’
He switched off the engine. He was so pale she was seriously worried.
‘Lorenzo?’
He turned to face her. ‘Will you marry me?’ It was only once he’d asked it that he looked directly into her eyes.
She blinked, stunned at the question that had come so suddenly out of the blue. ‘Yes. Of course I will.’ Her heart thudded hard enough to burst from her chest.
But he didn’t smile. Didn’t look even a smidge more relaxed. He just jerked his head in a sharp negating gesture. ‘But will you marry me right now?’
She stared from him, to the church in front of them. ‘Now?’
‘Right now.’ He sat still as marble.
‘Of course I will.’ She answered in a heartbeat.
‘You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure?’ He was the colour of marble too.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But are you?’
He smiled then. It was as if the full power of the sun had burst through the storm clouds—scattering them to the furthest edge of the universe. He got out of the car, strode round to her door and opened it.
She stepped out carefully, looking cautiously at him as he took her hand and led her to the closed doors of the old church.
‘We can’t really get married now can we?’ She climbed the stairs doubtfully. She didn’t think there was a minister in there—there wasn’t a car in the yard, there didn’t seem to be another soul around for miles.
Unless he meant to do some little personal made-up thing for just the two of them? Well, that would be fine by her. She wanted to be with him. She was happy.
He pulled the heavy door open and was a half-step behind her as she went in. She blinked in the dim light, suddenly saw the movement. The turning of heads. The smiles.
The church was full of people. Full.
She looked at Lorenzo—saw the colour had leeched from his skin again. A tall streak came flying up the aisle to her.
‘Rosanna, what are you doing here?’ Sophy asked, utterly shocked.
‘I’m your bridesmaid, silly.’
‘You’re serious.’ Sophy stared. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘I’m dead serious,’ said Rosanna.
‘So did you mean it?’ Lorenzo asked quietly. ‘You’ll marry me right now?’
‘No, I need at least ten minutes with her first.’ Rosanna again.
Sophy ignored Rosanna. Took a step closer to him, reached up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.
‘Five minutes, okay?’ He whispered, cupping her jaw. ‘Don’t be late.’
She saw the anxiety hidden not so deep in his eyes. ‘I won’t be.’
Rosanna dragged her by the hand out of the church and around the back to the vestry entrance. ‘Didn’t you hear the man? Five minutes is all we have.’
‘You’re not wearing black.’ Sophy stared at her stupidly.
‘It’s a wedding, not a funeral.’
Sophy clapped her hand over her mouth to stop the crazed giggle bursting out.
‘Ta da.’ Rosanna held up the hanger.
Sophy’s jaw dropped and she took a few steps closer. ‘Where did you find it?’
Rosanna shrugged. ‘Darling, I’m a buyer. I shop for a living—you know this.’
‘But, Ro—’
‘I know, even for me it’s outstanding. Now strip.’
Rosanna held the dress for Sophy to step into. Fixing the zip for her and smoothing the skirt, holding the new shoes that were the exact shade to match.
‘It all fits.’
‘Of course. I am a professional.’
‘Oh, Ro—’
‘No getting emotional. Not yet,’ Rosanna said tartly. ‘Now, we can do a better job of hiding this bruise.’ Despite her astringent tone, Rosanna swept the brush gently through Sophy’s hair, quickly but carefully put in some clips. ‘A rub of lipstick. You don’t need any other make-up—you’re glowing as it is.’
Sophy needed a distraction—otherwise she was going to hyperventilate, or get hysterical, or run into the church right now, half-ready, just to make sure it really was happening. She looked at her friend’s demure French navy frock. ‘Is Vance here?’
‘Yes.’
Sophy glanced—that was an arctic-sounding answer. ‘Are you not getting on?’
‘We’ve never got on. We just got it on a few times.’
Yeah, but Sophy had suspected, just for a fleeting second, that maybe Rosanna had finally met her match. ‘So what happened?’
‘He told me I had to give up the others. It was him and no one else. An ultimatum, no less.’
‘How unreasonable of him,’ Sophy remarked dryly. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said no, of course.’
‘Oh, Rosanna—’
‘Be quiet or I’ll spread lipstick all over your cheeks.’ Rosanna looked down. ‘You know me, Soph. I’m thrilled for you, I am. But you know the whole monogamous happy-ever-after thing isn’t for me. The only time I’ll ever walk down an aisle is right now, as your witness.’
‘I know.’ Sophy put her hand on her friend. ‘And you know how much I love you for doing it for me.’
Rosanna shrugged, reverting back to snappy. ‘It was fun spending Lorenzo’s money.’ She stood back and assessed her handiwork. ‘Okay, you’ve got something old—the dress. Something new—the shoes. Now for something borrowed and something blue.’ She looked sly, undid the clasp on the necklace she wore round her neck.
‘Rosanna.’ Sophy’s heart melted even more.
‘You have to wear it. He loves it on you.’
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